


Slow to Anger

by Starsight (crownhearted)



Series: A Martyr's Reprise [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underswap, No Mercy, No Mercy Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 12:17:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7438831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownhearted/pseuds/Starsight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I look back on where I've failed / and in every place I checked / the only common thread has been your disrespect. / Now, you call me amoral / a dangerous disgrace- / if you've got something to say / name a time and place, face to face. / I have the honor to be your obedient servant...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slow to Anger

"So. You think you know _better than **me** , now?_"

You stand in front of Chara with your hands folded in front of you, your sweater still vibrant, theirs dim in comparison. You try to process what is happening. You are standing inside the CORE, and you have been keeping a very careful counter of the monsters they have SAVED, which will practically _cement_ their dedication to your cause.

For some reason,  _ **they just neglected to dust a monster.**_ You will not have this. 

You wait for an answer.

"They said that they have made their choice. I know I have more or less made my own, by this juncture, but-"

"Mmm _hm?_ "

"They have their own resolve, even staring into the face of death, to stand and fight. I simply wonder," You can _hear_ their voice getting tighter. Interruption bothers them.  **Good.**  

"Golly, _do you_ now?"

"In that case- is there not, perhaps, another way? Other than absolute annihilation-" Their hands are clenching into fists around their weapon. Your eyes gleam with satisfaction, you know, you can feel it.

" _Is that just **so?**_ "

"Will you _stop_ interrupting me!?" Their outburst does surprise you, but not nearly as much as it should, and you don't react to it at all. You stay still and quiet. You wait for them to burst again under the pressure of the silence you have lain at their feet.

"I am simply suggesting that perhaps constant _**murder**_ isn't the choice we should be making here!"

"And what _is_ the choice _**we** _ should be making, Chara?" You find it suddenly amusing that they have begun to think  _you_ are  _aiding them_ in the dusting of monsters. Laughable, truly. You have never killed a single thing in your life or thereafter, human or otherwise.

"I - I don't know!"

They finally stop running their mouth. You are glad of it. Your jaw tightens, but you smile, and it is  _almost_ soft and kind- but mostly, it is pitying.  
Angry, but pitying.

You approach them with heavy and deliberate footfalls that must, to your little red vessel, feel like anvil drops. You normally let yourself remain light, airy, smooth and soundless, but for  _this_ you must remind Chara that you are  _very real_. Eventually, you do stand within arms reach of the fallen child. You reach out and tuck their hair behind their ear, where it remains for a few seconds before sliding easily back around their face. You've had to run your fingers through this hair and comb the knots out with your knuckles more times than you can count now. Chara was always messy, always dust-coated, always rabid and feral in fights, especially at first. That had calmed down now, but you still had to polish them from time to time.

Did they just shudder at your touch?  
More importantly, how can you make that a  _good_ shudder?

"Do you really believe yourself?" You ask, in a whisper. "Do you truly believe that there is a way to keep monsters from gruesome, degrading experiments, from violent and unjust deaths at the hands of the humans on the surface? Do you _believe_ that there is a way out of this without your hands becoming dirty?"

They know better than to respond, but they try to anyway. They even part their lips and tilt their chin up nearly imperceptibly to start. You place your index finger gently on their mouth. You remove it, when their eyes burn with outrage at being silenced like a misbehaving child, but they listen to your authority just like one.

"I have to admit, I knew you were selfish, but not _quite_ this much! Gosh, your desire for personal cleansing is far greater than your desire to SAVE monsterkind."

"I am not being _selfish_ ," they growl. "I am trying to find another way out of this, a way which does not harm so many. You could _help me_ think of something in that  _general direction_ instead of being so- so- loosely  _amoral_ about this."

"Let me stop you there, Chara." You practically coo your words. You slowly move your hands to their sweater sleeves. They allow you to pick their right wrist up, and tug at the edges of the sleeve, smooth and straighten and pluck stray, fraying threads with intense interest. They are a rag doll, and you play with your toys like some play with fire; **dangerously**.

"I am slow to anger. You know that, oh, I'm sure you know, I've been so _patient_ with you thus far. I have walked you through  _every single challenge_ and helped you give proper homage to those who have died at your hands, at your weapons. I have given you choices and you have made yours again and again. I have been impressed with you, but there  _have_ been times where I have been frustrated. Golly, but you'd never know that, wouldja?" 

You pick up their left wrist and mimic the motions on the right sleeve. You take extra care to finish before speaking again, and slide both of your hands up their arms to their shoulders. You shift the sweater on them, as if ensuring they are as well in it as possible. It does not fit very well, you think perhaps it is a size too large, or has been stretched by someone a big bigger than them.

"I look back, now, on the places where I very nearly did not escape with the necessary tools to complete SAVING monsterkind. Do you know that I find, every single time?" You reach up and place your fingers on the sides of their neck. It is a smooth, exposed blue vein that reminds you how vulnerable they are, how truly human they are. Your index finger slides back and forth over it, and you imagine the blood coursing through it and the red color it would turn when it met oxygen.

If.  _If_ it met oxygen.

" **You**. Your wavering faith, your unsteady DETERMINATION, your doubts. You are the reason monsters will suffer. You and you  **alone**. I find it  _laughable_ that  _you_ call  ** _me_** amoral! _My_ morals have always lay with the peaceful passing of monsters into their afterlife, away from humanity, away from the suffering that they would endure by crossing the barrier. You?"

You curl your hand under their jaw, slide it to their chin. Your free hand reaches down, and your gaze follows it. You smoothly slip your fingers underneath the spatula handle they have been clutching, and it drops to the ground with a metal clang that falls on deaf ears. You lace your fingers inside of theirs, and you watch the act, before you move in  _far_ too close again.

"Make no more mistakes. You are the murderer. You are the reason monsters must die. You, and all your kind, will never bring anything but destruction to monsters. I am dead. I have done my part to make life safer for my people- yes, **my** people, Chara, nobody cares for them more than  ** _I_** **do-** but you? You **live**.You persist in life and as long as you do that, you are nothing more than a threat, a violation, a moving  **pesticide**. Yet, here you stand..."

You move your hand off of their chin and it brushes under their jaw again, behind their head, as your foreheads touch. Your eyes do not waver from Chara's. They want to look away, they ache to, but their DETERMINATION always has been and always will be their downfall.

"And you have the chance to use that terrible toxin you breathe to do _good_. Use your curse as a gift. You can execute my plan B, and you stall. You hesitate. You  _doubt_."

They swallow. You win.

"Pick up your spatula," you whisper. It's a soft and quiet thing, it's a fluttering breeze of cool air in this oven of lava and heat. "And let Whimsalot join their family. _Free_ these monsters, Chara."

You watch them do as you say. You step back so that they can. They turn around and prepare to hunt down the very last living monster in the CORE, and you wrap your arms around their waist from behind, resting your chin on their shoulder. You are not smiling when you speak into their ear at such a proximity.

" ** _You_** _are the one who is SAVING them all. I simply have the honor to be your **obedient servant.**_ "

What a _reluctant_ master; but they have the prettiest eyes when they move forward and attack the small, hovering monster.  
The same color of the blood that would turn red when it waltzed with oxygen.

If.  
_If._

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the summary is Hamilton. No, I am not sorry.


End file.
